


The Calm Before the Storm

by BadWolfandTimelords



Category: Ben 10 Series, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 23:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7074343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolfandTimelords/pseuds/BadWolfandTimelords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like many who had felt as though they had done terrible deeds, or knew they had done so, James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes, formerly and unwillingly the Winter Soldier, felt as though he did not deserve kindness when it was given to him. So when Clara first took him in, he hadn't shunned her exactly, but he had certainly kept his distance in the beginning. <br/>In the beginning, anyways...<br/>Story entwined with my Star Wars fic "You're the Good Dreams" However, is not reliant on the story. Both can stand on their own.<br/>(Listed under Ben 10 because the safe house is in that show's world, characters only occasionally make an appearance. Poe Dameron mentioned and appears at times.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“People are gonna die, Buck. I can’t let that happen.”  
That’s what the man said. That’s what Captain America, his supposed former best friend, said.   
“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield.”  
That’s what the exhibit said at the museum.  
“The man on the bridge, who was he?  
“You met him on a previous assignment earlier this week.”  
“I knew him.”  
That's what Pierce had told him. He remembered that now.   
The memories of being the Winter Soldier were the memories that were most recent, and unfortunately, the clearest and most frequent. Occasionally memories from the past, a person he no longer was, would bubble to the surface, hinting at who he was so long ago, when he was still young and innocent.   
Young.   
Physically, he was still young. But he was old, and mentally, he certainly felt it. In this new day and age, he was in a world he helped turn to chaos, one where without HYDRA, he should have been clinging to the last strings of life in some old folks home in Brooklyn. Yet here he was, dazed and traumatized in a safe house in the middle of nowhere in Romania, alone to try and remember who he was; to figure out who he was now.   
So, it was in a safe house in the middle of nowhere Romania, the last thing Bucky Barnes expected was a knock on the door. Silently scrambling for a rifle, he lined the muzzle up against the door so that if necessary, it would shoot right through the door and kill whoever was on the other side. Cautiously, he opened the door a crack and peered out to see who or what had knocked on his door. To his surprise, a small woman, small being 5’5 and curvy to his 5’11 hulking figure, with long red hair and a bright smile stood outside on the doorstep. Although she didn’t look threatening, with all of his past training, he knew better than to judge a book by its cover. Thus, the both of them stared at each other, him in confusion and her in relief, however, the calculating stare was in both their eyes.  
“Hello, Bucky.” The woman finally said, stepping forwards an inch.  
That turned out to be a mistake on her behalf, for as she moved, a light breeze swept through the area the house was situated in, blowing her hair away from the collar of her jacket to reveal the black and white pin that was clipped there. Instantly his eyes widened in shock as he recognized the SHIELD insignia and sent him action. Swinging his rifle up, he pulled the trigger and shot at her. Or at least tried to. Moving at an impossible speed, the woman grabbed the rifle and wrenched it from his grasp before spinning him and grabbing his wrists, sending him falling to his knees with his arms pinned behind his back.  
“Sergeant Barnes, I want you to listen to me. It’s okay. I’m not with SHIELD, rather, what’s left of it. You can trust me. I just need you to listen for me for five minutes. That’s all I ask.” She bent down to say in his ear lowly. He noted that her voice was a slightly rough, as though she had a sore throat.  
“Then why don’t I believe you?” Bucky returned before ripping himself from her grasp.  
It was then the lethal dance begun.  
Neither person used a weapon against their opponent, each having been trained to the point where their bodies were the weapon. Blocking several of the woman’s kicks, Bucky quickly dipped low to try and kick her off her feet, however the woman was fast as well, jumping to evade his attack before rolling to avoid several others as he attempted to pin her down with his bionic arm. Now she was on the defensive as he unleashed everything he had against her, however every chance she had to hit back, she never did. It almost seemed as though she didn’t want to fight now.   
“If she didn’t want to fight, she shouldn’t have-”   
His thoughts however was cut short as there was a blur of white and suddenly he was on his back, the small woman somehow managing to pin him down, not allowing him to move an inch.  
“Okay, I’ll admit, bad idea to wear this jacket, but in my defense, the people I do work for, I don’t have that jacket yet. Besides, this type of this,” She nodded between them. “Isn’t our M.O.”  
“Then what do you want?” He grunted as he tried to at least move his bionic arm. However he still could not budge.  
“Well, 5 minutes of your time for starters.” She shrugged. “Listen to what I have to say, and if you don’t like what you hear, I’ll leave you be.”  
Stopping struggling, he studied her face intently. “If I don’t like what I hear, are you going to send SHIELD after me?”  
“No. Steve Rogers is still looking for you, and trust me, you two will run into each other soon enough, but he doesn’t and won’t know that I had anything to do with you.” She promised.   
Steve Rogers. She knew his former best friend. Studying her closer, her bright red hair sparked something; memories he had been forced to forget. He had never seen the woman’s face, but the red hair stood out.  
“Are you the Black Widow?” He asked, thinking of the lethal product of Russian spy training. He was surprised however when the woman giggled.  
“My name is Natasha, but not the Natasha you’re thinking of.” She told him. “If it helps, since I’m calling you by your middle name, you can call me by mine.”  
Bucky was surprised to find himself relaxing as Natasha spoke to him comfortably, instead of the fear he had caused over a number of decades. “Which is?”  
“Clara. It’s after my maternal Grandmother.” She smiled.  
Clara.   
That certainly struck a cord. Based on his labour with HYDRA and the memories that were slowly surfacing from his youth, he knew enough that by 2016’s standards, Clara was an older name that had faded in popularity. “Clara.” He gave it a try, feeling that it was comfortable on his tongue and easy on his mind. “That’s okay.”  
“Perfect, let’s not confuse people with two Natasha’s in this world. So, 5 minutes?” Clara asked hopefully.  
Thinking carefully, Bucky nodded slowly. “5 minutes.” He agreed.  
And it ended up being more than 5 minutes as she released him from her hold and they sat on the floor from each other, simply talking. There was a big fight approaching, she told him, and she knew he was still lost. He might remember some things, but she could help him make sense of it all; free of being monitored and of any government organizations. She had a safe house in Bellwood, Illinois, that was deep under cover where no one would find him. He could train, relax, try to remember who he truly was without the fear of being hunted down, and do whatever he pleased. She would keep her distance, she promised; but if he needed her, despite being a complete stranger, she would be there for him.  
After she had presented this information to him, he sat there silently, mulling over the possibilities. Almost everything she promised he had right here, right now. However she also promised to help him remember, which he didn’t quite understand how she could do that. So, he asked. “When you say you can help me remember… How could you do that?”  
“Guess there’s no chance you’ve seen Star Wars?” She chuckled weakly.  
“Uhh… No…” Bucky stuttered.  
“Yeah, figured.” She shrugged. “I have abilities. I won’t explain them in great detail, but I use them to help a friend of mine recover from his nightmares of being tortured. I think maybe I can use them to help you.”  
Someone influencing his head… “I don’t know if I’m ready for that just yet.” He said slowly.  
“I understand. At the very least, you can use my safe house. You’ll be safe, I promise.” Clara gently laid a hand on his bionic hand, making him flinch.   
Thinking carefully, he slowly nodded. “Okay.” He agreed. “Just let me gather my things.”   
Smiling widely, she sat back. “Take your time. Because God knows you’ll have it for the next little while.”


	2. Chapter 2

While Clara had initially shocked him by teleporting them to her safe house, Bucky was surprised at the sheltered feeling that overwhelmed him the moment his feet hit the tile. Showing him around the small bungalow, she showed him where everything he may need was before showing him to his room. With a soft pat on his cheek, which earned her a flinch, she gave him a gentle smile and disappeared in a swirl black and red swirl of energy.  
The moment she disappeared, he dove for his room and hid there.   
Although he knew he was free to roam the house, that he wasn't a prisoner, he remained in his room. Three times a day he'd hear Clara rummaging about in the kitchen, singing and dancing around as various aromas filled the air and spread to all corners of the house. Then, after an hour or so, there would be a soft knock at his door, followed by a quiet “Food’s ready” before there was a snap and a swirl and she was gone.   
Cautiously sticking his head out the door, he'd listen carefully for any signs of life before crossing the hall and walking into the kitchen. There at each meal, Clara would have food on the stove or counter for him to take. In the morning, sometimes it was french toast or eggs. Lunch, she'd make him a ham or chicken salad sandwich. Dinner was the best as it always varied as to what she would make. No matter what the meal though, it was delicious and filling. And though she never requested he do so, he always made sure to clean the kitchen afterwards.   
They never saw each other, but for a week, the rhythm they created was comfortable.   
So, it was the morning of a week after Bucky’s arrival that he decided that after having been given his space, he’d finally face his hostess. Sneaking over the soft carpet floor, he paused in shock when he spotted Clara crossing the tile floor as she made that morning’s breakfast.  
“Oh! Umm…” He stuttered, averting his gaze.  
Whirling around with a knife in her hand, she relaxed when she saw a red Bucky standing in the doorway. “Ohhhhhh… okay.” She sighed in realization. Putting her hands on her hips, she looked at the ground and pursed her lips before shaking her head and passing the man who had either retained or regained his gentleman behavior from the 40’s as he gave her a large amount of space to pass him. “I'll put some pants on.”


End file.
